Red Hot Chili Peppers - Stockholm Globen - 30/3/03
4/5
By: Andy Willson
Let's start by getting down to grass roots. The Red Hot Chili Peppers playing in March, in dull, grimy London, amidst a certain arena which has as much acoustics and atmosphere as watching 'The Salon' at home on a black and white TV while drinking a flat Dr Pepper. On the other hand, you can fly over the North Sea, land in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and see our quartet in a thoroughly more intimate, unique venue. Still not convinced? The city is Stockholm and the venue is Globen, a huge golf-ball shaped building which holds 13,000 Swedish people. You get the picture... Sorry, Blighty: see you soon.
After a rousing, if not mental set from support band, The Mars Volta, The Chili's take to the stage at 9.00pm, safely kicking off with 'By The Way', and from the outset we are treated to a quite wonderful stage-show, and a set from a band who are finally reaping the rewards of their previous hard work... All the drink and drugs problems in the past now seem a distant memory, and with guitarist John Fruscianti back in the fold, the Chili's have taken that giant leap from a mere cult act to warranting their claim for world domination. Even singer Anthony Keidis has slimmed down, and - this evening - it's not long before he is topless, tattoos on show for all, screaming like a school-girl. Bassist Flea and Fruscianti combine very well, getting close enough to lick each other's faces, rocking backwards and forwards to their charging rhythms, leaving drummer Chad Smith to merely do what he does best, and remain keenly understated from the loop.
Predictably, tonight's set combines largely of tracks from their most successful releases, 'Californication' and 'By The Way', but the foursome still manage to squeeze a couple of new numbers in there, which have the Chili stamp all over them. Yet the real clinchers, and reason why people have turned up in droves, soon become apparent - a searing 'Give It Away' and a classic 'Under The Bridge', both greeted with a response that could move the sternest of fellows to tears. Almost enough to distract you from the, frankly, annoying sight of ear-plugs residing in the corners of many peoples' heads; ears were born to ring, guys.
Such is the band's own power, the only drawback of this evening (other than the extraordinary price of beer) is the sound-quality, a factor that confessedly can't be helped by our Messieurs. The bass is way too high but then, how do you keep Flea quiet; if the man can jump his own height (which is where he allegedly gained his name from) then you probably wouldn't mess with him during a sound-check either.
Following a warts 'n' all, sterling 90-minute set, proceedings draw to a close and everyone leaves with that peevish, contented, (after sex) grin on their faces. Seemingly, Chili's come in various strengths but on tonight's performance alone, and even after all the years together, these boys are Habaneros, and will burn your backside to hell.
Artists in this article: Red Hot Chili Peppers
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